


The Progression -- Season One

by Severina



Category: Queer as Folk RPF
Genre: Blogathon 2005, Humour, RPS - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-08-06
Updated: 2005-08-06
Packaged: 2017-10-10 13:34:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/100335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Severina/pseuds/Severina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tongue-in-cheek Gale Harold/Randy Harrison RPS.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Progression -- Season One

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Blogathon 2005

The first boyfriend was already in the picture when Randy moved to Toronto. By the time they were halfway through shooting the first episode, Gale has figured out that the boyfriend was short, stocky, and cursed with an inhuman amount of body hair. Actually, Gale was just guessing on the body hair part. And the stocky part. And well, on the short part, too. All he really knew about boyfriend number one was that he was from New York, and he'd stayed behind while Randy came to Toronto to work on the show. Occasionally Randy's cell phone would ring while they were on set, and Randy would smile into the receiver and hold up one finger to Gale, who was inevitably regaling Randy with a fascinating story that really couldn't be told in two parts. And after a moment, Randy would press his free hand to his ear and wander into one of the alcoves between sets, whispering into his headset, and Gale would imagine the boyfriend grunting back, slobbering and weaving his leg hair into braids.

* * *

By Episode 103, the boyfriend was history. They'd had a huge screaming match on the phone, boyfriend accusing Randy of infidelity, Randy hurt and betrayed that boyfriend didn't trust him, and after much tears and heartache, and an astronomical long distance bill, they'd agreed that things would be better for both of them if they didn't see each other again. Of course, all Randy actually _said_ to Gale when Gale asked about the boyfriend was, "we're not together anymore", but Gale could read between the lines.

* * *

In Episode 104, Randy had to give Gale a blowjob. Well, "Justin" had to give "Brian" a blowjob, but really, Gale wasn't bothered by technicalities when a blond was on his knees, nuzzling his balls through his jeans and then grinning up at him with a shit-eating smirk.

"You're an asshole," Gale had muttered, careful to modulate so as to avoid being picked up by the mic. Normally he was significantly more eloquent, but it was hard to be articulate when all the blood was rushing to his dick.

Randy had responded by lapping his tongue along the outline of Gale's cock. Gale wanted to simultaneously shoot him, and just plain shoot.

When the director yelled "cut", Randy got to his feet and flounced away without a care in the world. Gale, on the other hand, spent the remainder of the day with a raging case of blue balls, which was only relieved when he stopped in to one of the artsy little bars on Queen Street that he'd begun to favour, and found a waitress who was willing to perform a little extra customer service.

* * *

Everyone kept talking about how the show was going to "break new ground" and be "fresh" and "innovative". Gale was just happy not to be sleeping in his truck. So when the director of Episode 107 said he wanted to try something "intense", Gale just shrugged. The director called Gale and Randy into a meeting just prior to shooting the scene, and talked a lot. A lot. Gale got rather bored halfway through, and spent most of the time trying to remember all the words to "Ice Ice Baby."

So, "intense" turned out to be, well... intense. The director wanted long shots, close-ups, backwards, forwards, inside out... all of them with Gale draped over Randy's back, kissing along his spine, clutching at his thighs, all the while thrusting against his bare ass. Randy had wanted music, but they were told it would mess up the sound. So Gale simul-fucked Randy with "Ice Ice Baby" going round and round in his head, alternating occasionally with a little "bow-chicka-bow-bow".

When they were done, Gale flopped back onto the bed and quickly grabbed the sheet to cover his "intense" hard-on.

Randy reached over and patted him on the knee. "Don't freak out," he said softly, "it's only 'cause of the friction."

Gale let his eyes graze the sheet that was pooled between Randy's legs, and raised his eyebrow. Sure, he had friction as an excuse... what did Randy have?

Randy blushed.

Gale started to feel like the scorecard was a little more even.

* * *

When his doorbell rang at 2:17am on the eve of filming on Episode 108, Gale stumbled from the bed with only one thought in mind: if it was that chick from the Bovine, again, he was going to tell her, again, that it had been one night -- one night, hence the term one night stand -- and remind her, again, that he didn't do relationships. And if she didn't understand that, again, he was going to feel morally, legally, hell, spiritually obligated to report her to the police as a stalker.

He opened the door to find Randy clutching a Starbucks take-out bag and a pair of Styrofoam cups, and grinning like a loon. If loons grinned, that is.

"Were you sleeping?" Randy asked.

Gale contemplated his 7am call to be on set, and considered strangling Randy where he stood.

"'Cause I brought chocolate croissants," Randy continued.

Gale stared.

Randy shook the bag. "Chooocolate," he said.

Gale scrubbed a hand across his face, scratched his chest, and managed to mumble a "What the fuck?"

Then Randy was stepping inside the door. And kissing him. When Gale thought about that kiss, years later, he came to realize that it was pretty much the same kiss Randy would use three years and hundreds of on- and off-screen kisses later, in a scene where Justin tells Brian off in the Vangard art department. It's a pulling, grasping, need you right fucking now, can't resist kiss. And when Gale further contemplated that first kiss, he realized that the expression on his face must have been the same as Brian's would be, years later. A mix of shock and surprise and fear and lust. Mostly lust.

And as in that not-yet-written future scene, Randy pulled away from the kiss and turned away. But instead of running off and leaving him alone, Randy closed and locked the door.

Gale spun him around before the chain was even fully engaged, pressing Randy firmly back into the door and retaking his lips, their bodies flush, blood racing. Randy's tongue eagerly met his and he had a moment to think, _this is the first time I've really kissed him_, before he was tugging off Randy's shirt and tripping backwards over the shoes he'd left piled in the entranceway and listening to Randy's laugh as they lurched their way to the bedroom.

The next day, Gale left a note for his cleaning lady, apologizing for the dried-on coffee stains dripping down the foyer walls.

* * *

Gale loved filming Episode 110. He loved the actor who played Mysterious Marilyn, who was willing to sneak smokes with him in the ever so clearly marked "no smoking" areas, which were _everywhere_, and who told raunchy jokes about midgets that had him laughing so hard he cried. He loved watching the way Hal had to psyche himself up, practically holding his breath, before letting Gale kiss him on the roadside. In fact, he deliberately fucked up that scene a couple of times, just to have the pleasure of seeing Hal do it all over again. He loved the fact that somebody substituted a real doobie for the herbal shit that they were supposed to be smoking in one of the takes, and he loved the harsh burn of the smoke in his lungs.

But mostly, he loved filming the hotel scene.

He loved covering Randy's body, rubbing his stubbled cheeks over Randy's skin, leaving red marks behind where his lips burned across Randy's flesh. He loved thrusting against Randy's ass, even if there was a cocksock between them, and feeling the way Randy's breath caught in his throat with each push, signalling that he loved it too.

So it was really no wonder that Gale didn't hear the director call "cut" the first time. Or the second.

It was only the muffled huffs of Randy's breath against his shoulder that clued him in that something was wrong.

"Cut!" the director yelled, for what Gale later found out was the third time.

Gale rolled off Randy's suddenly still body. Took in the silence of the room. Glanced at Randy, who had covered his face with his hands, but whose body was shaking in what could only be silent laughter.

Gale muttered something about an ear infection.

* * *

Two days before filming began on Episode 112, Gale and Randy were called into Cowlip's office. They took seats next to each other on a Italian leather loveseat that wouldn't look out of place in Brian's loft. Gale felt like a recalcitrant schoolboy called to task in the principle's office. Randy looked like one.

Ron -- or maybe it was Dan, Gale was never sure -- began the lecture. He stated the importance of maintaining a healthy, friendly working relationship between all cast-mates. He stressed how happy they were to discover that not only did everyone work together well, but that they also enjoyed each other's company on a personal level. Then Dan -- or maybe it was Ron -- took over. He reminded them of the non-fraternization clause in their contracts.

"We cannot stress to you enough," Dan-or-maybe-Ron said, "how vital it is that the non-fraternization clause is strictly enforced. And we _will_ enforce it."

"You don't have to worry," Gale said. He leaned forward, knowing it was important that he make himself very clear. "I'm straight," he said.

Beside him on the loveseat, Randy twitched but said nothing.

* * *

"But I _am_ straight," Gale said.

Randy huffed out an exasperated sigh. "Gale, you just had your dick up my ass. How can you say you're straight?"

Gale knew he should just be happy that Randy was talking to him, that they were fucking again, and say whatever he needed to say to make sure the current situation continued. The previous few weeks had been murder, while Randy fumed over Gale's declaration and Gale tried increasingly desperately to get him to come around. Despite being tempted many times to take up a limited association with any number of the Queen West bar patrons, all of whom seemed to have legs for miles and tits that wouldn't quit, Gale had instead spent the last few weeks getting reacquainted with his right hand. He wasn't anxious to continue that friendship.

They had to be up in four hours to start work on Episode 115, and Gale wanted to fuck, not talk.

But...

"Look," Gale said, "you're the only guy I want to fuck. I don't get hot looking at other men. I don't want to kiss other men. I'm not attracted to other men. And I like women." Randy huffed out an impatient breath that Gale ignored. "How can I say I'm gay?"

Randy crossed his legs beneath him and reached across Gale to filch one of his cigarettes. He lit up before muttering around the smoke, "Well, you're sure as fuck not straight."

"I guess I could be bi," Gale countered. The whole thing was just too confusing. Straight, gay, bisexual, transsexual, transgendered. Labels for everything. He was just Gale.

"Bi?" Randy asks from behind a cloud of smoke.

"Limited bi." Gale warmed to the idea, if it would make Randy happy. And get him to stop talking, stop smoking, and start kissing. "Bi with restrictions."

Randy grunted, but he also butted out the cigarette and ran his palm flat against Gale's chest.

"You're fucked," Randy said.

"Christ, I hope so."

* * *

Randy got called back to New York during the filming of Episode 119. Dan-or-Ron grumbled and complained, but adjusted the schedule so he could have a few days off. Gale grumbled and complained, but only in his head. Randy said it was an "emergency", and it probably was, but that didn't stop Gale from picturing a bawdy reunion between Randy and the hairy ex. In Technicolor. With surround sound.

He often cursed his fertile imagination.

Still, he promised Randy that he'd take care of the cats. So he spent two hours each day at Randy's apartment. He crooned Harry Connick Jr. to Ella, because he could tell just by looking at her that she was that kind of cat. And then when Aggie got that look on his face that said he was sick of hearing "The Way You Look Tonight" for the umpteenth time, he switched to show tunes. Aggie swished his tail particularly vigorously whenever Gale sang "Oklahoma".

* * *

"Did you ever watch that movie?"

Gale blinked. They were curled up together on the ratty sofa in Gale's dressing room, Gale sprawled the length of the sofa, Randy's back against Gale's chest as he used Gale for his personal lounging pillow. What should have been one hour to ready a set for Episode 121 had become three long hours. Hours that they should have spent fucking, but Randy had decided that he wanted to try some of Thea's weed. Gale warned him that her shit was a lot stronger than his… a fact that should have been obvious to Randy just by attempting to hold more than a three minute conversation with Thea when she was high. Randy was shocked that Thea even smoked to begin with. He thought she was simply "naturally ethereal".

Sometimes Gale wondered how Randy managed to be so naïve and so worldly all at the same time.

Now Randy was gloriously, vibrantly wasted. And they were due to shoot a scene in… well, he actually didn't know how long. But soon. He hoped Randy would be able to walk.

Gale drew on the last of the joint. "What are you talking about?"

Randy waved a hand toward the TV. Which was turned off.

Gale gave up on Randy walking anywhere today, and began to fabricate excuses as to why they couldn't film their scene. He was leaning towards the ever popular "food poisoning". It was even kind of true. Weed was sort of food.

"That movie," Randy said, as if that explained everything. "The one that Brian and Michael love."

"Dirty Dancing," Gale said. "Everybody's fucking seen Dirty Dancing."

"You know that part, where Patrick Swayze is trying to teach Baby to dance?"

Gale shrugged. He didn't really like where this was going. Maybe he could get Randy to the set after all.

"You know how Baby is all awkward and shit?"

Randy was giggling now. Giggling. Gale decided that he was never letting Randy smoke pot again.

"That is totally what you look like when you try to dance!"

Gale closed his eyes and counted to ten. Then twenty. He would have went to thirty, but he'd really smoked a LOT of weed.

* * *

The prom scene went over without a hitch, and they left the parking garage scene to be filmed last. Gale stepped aside and watched Hal swing the foam rubber bat, take after take, watched Randy fall to the ground, take after take after take. He stepped further away when the special effects crew moved in to apply the blood. Gale knew it was fake, all fake, but he still felt sick to his stomach.

That night, he pressed his body as close to Randy's as he could get. Buried his face in Randy's neck. And held on tight.

* * *

They had a long talk the next morning, and decided to go their separate ways during hiatus. Because Randy wanted a boyfriend. And Gale was straight.

Gale figured they'd last two weeks apart.

He was off by three days.


End file.
